Pearls in the Country
by Countess Eliza
Summary: AU. Even after both of their spouses had betrayed them, Natasha and Pierre still wore their wedding rings. Natasha because she hated knowing that her daughter had been born out of wedlock. Pierre just wanted to give Helene's daughter that he took under his wing some normality to her life. The two girls meet at school and tell each other their parent's secrets about their rings.
1. YEAR ONE

**Aha! I am not dead, everyone! Just been occupied with NaNoWriMo and hell-I mean school. I've been getting into this musical a lot lately and recently watched the bootleg. Oh, goodness that was a masterpeice. I found our that Josh Groban has always been apart of my life. My mom used to listen to him when she was pregnant with me. That explains my obsession with "Dust and Ashes". Anyways, I've had this idea for a bit now. I was bored during math (my personal hell in hell) so I began working on it. Originally, it was going to be a one shot, but it was getting a bit too long. This story is going to be ten chapters. Each one for the years that Masha and Lisa are in at school. **

**I don't own Natahsa, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. **

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YEAR ONE

_1821_

_Moscow_

_Age: Nine_

Even after Anatole had left her with a child, Natasha could not take her ring off. It was only a simple band that he gave to her when they were almost married. That was when she found out about his wife. After Anatole was barely able to escape the authorities, she was left behind. With wounded pride. Plus the child she was carrying inside of her. Natasha later gave birth to a girl. She called her Masha. Short for Maria, but this little thing in her hands did not seem like one. She was a simple Masha. Natasha adored her daughter from the start.

To her surprise, Marya was still there for her. Natasha'a father was quite angry with her. To get away from him, she stayed with her godmother. Once her father had forgiven her, Natasha moved away from Moscow with her little Masha. She did not visit Moscow often after that. People would talk. Their conversations emerging into gossip about the Rostovas. Her heart had been broken once. Now it was sealed off to any suitors. Only open to her daughter.

Meanwhile, Hélène's many affairs had caught up to her. She came to Pierre one day, telling him that she was expecting. It was not his child. That didn't matter to him. It was an innocent child that did not deserve to grow up in a cruel household. Pierre tried to make everything perfect for a little human being living there. He told himself not to become to connected. This was not his own baby. It was another man's. Yet Pierre felt himself connecting with it more every day. With everything that he bought for him or her, he was falling more in love. Once the child had been born, Hélène went back to a life of parties and vodka. Pierre was left to fend for his wife's daughter. He named her Lisa. Only Lisa. A simple name for an illegitimate child.

When Lisa was five, Pierre came downstairs to find his wife. Cold and unmoving. A bottle of abortifacient was next to her. After feeling for a pulse, he pronounced her dead. When Lisa so innocently asked about the mother that was never there for her, Pierre told her that she had passed on.

"Oh, did she go to heaven then?" she wondered, "Is she with God now?"

Ignoring all the bad things that Hélène had done in her lifetime, he nodded. After all, a fallen woman must be forgiven. That was what his friend had told him once. Lisa accepted that answer and closed her eyes to sleep.

When she was asleep, Pierre could think of how much she resembled her mother. Without Dolokhov's eyes haunting him. Those were his late wife's locks falling over Lisa's shoulders. Lisa was just like a doll that had been created to look like Hélène.

Lisa called him Papa. A title that he didn't deserve. Yet somehow had earned it. Pierre wore it with pride. Telling the entire world that this little girl thought of his as her Papa. That was how much he loved her. Even after Hélène's sudden suicide, he wore his ring. He wanted Lisa to grow up in a home where at least one parent had a ring on their finger. Unlike he had. When Pierre was a boy, he would see all the children with their parents still happy together. His own father seemed to have forgotten about his mother. Just moved on to the next woman after he had been born.

At the age of nine, both of them had blossomed into sweet girls. Lisa, being very talented at her numbers and letters. Just has her father had taught her. Masha was much more reserved. She preferred creating things rather then solving them.

There was a school special for girls about their age in Moscow. When Pierre heard about it, he knew that they would be able to educate his daughter as well as he would be able to. Teaching her things that he would not be able to teach her. Lisa begged him not to send her away, but he was stern.

When Masha turned nine, Marya suggested to Natasha to look at the girl's school. After doing so, she knew that it was the best place for her daughter for her education. Masha may have been worse about convincing her mother not to send her away. Natasha was certainly more stern.

On the first day of the school, the two girls said their goodbyes to their parents. Lisa had been glaring down at her hands the entire way over. She did not want to go to school. There was nothing that they could teach her that her father could not. She would much rather be with her friend, Nick. Lisa stomped out of the carriage.

"Please, Papa," she tried one last time, "I really don't want to go. They is _nothing _that they can teach me that you can't. You're probably much smarter then them, anyways."

"That is true, Lisa, but there is one thing that they will be able to teach you," replied Pierre.

Lisa folded her arms. "And what is that, exactly?"

"I assure you that you will be able to teach yourself how to make friends. That is something that I cannot teach you myself."

"But I had friends back home. Remember Nick?"

Pierre was not exactly found of the boy. Not that he wasn't good to his daughter, but was that he was kind to her. A bit too nice in his opinion. Nick always seemed to be looking at Lisa in a different light. As if he was stricken with his daughter.

"Yes, but now you can make friends that are also girls." He gestured to the door. "Now go on inside."

Before taking another step, Lisa turned around and embraced her father. She kept the warm feeling of his coat with her. Just in case she ever got lonely. His favorite cologne was brunt into her memory.

Not far from those two stood Natasha with her daughter in her arms. The two had been like this for a few minutes. Neither one of them talked. Just held on to each other. Making sure that they would be alright. The two of them were able to do it all without words. She finally put Masha down.

"Remember to write to me every week," reminded Natasha.

"I'll write every day if I can."

They parted. Masha slowly making her way inside the building. Other girls were running around her to get inside, but she did not want to be too far from her mother. Masha turned her head around to make sure that Natasha was still there. She was, but Masha didn't go running back to her. She had to prove that she was strong.

Inside, the headmistress gave a speech before the girls went off to their first classes. They were given little pieces of paper with their schedules on them. Other girls began to show them to their other friends to see if they had any friends in those classes. They had to have gone here before in order to know everyone so well.

Literature was their first class. Both girls made their way down to the room. They were seated next to each other. Without knowing each other's names. The teacher began lecturing about "Father Frost". Lisa already knew the story by heart. Pierre had read it to her every night. The girl sitting next to her, however, seemed confused.

"Miss Maria!" their snapped at the girl, "Did the woman in the story love her stepdaughter?"

"Um. . . I-I don't know, Madam," answered Masha, shaking.

Their teacher's eyebrows knotted together. "No? Weren't you paying any attention?"

"I was trying. . . I guess that I'm just not very good at this. . ."

Lisa could sense the fear in her eyes. She quietly got out a slip of paper and scribbled down the answer. She pocked Masha with her quill. Masha took a quick glance at what was on the paper. She sent her a grateful look, which Lisa nodded her 'your welcome'.

"I think I have the answer now. The stepmother did not love her stepdaughter. She preferred her real daughter over her," said Masha, in a determined tone.

Her teacher seemed surprised. Yet she still nodded and continued on with the lesson. Masha grabbed her new friend's hand and squeezed it. Lisa beamed. Turned out her father was right. She would make a friend while she was at school. After class was over, the two girls walked out together.

"My name is Lisa," she introduced.

"Masha."

They took each other's hands and led each other to the dinning room for lunch. The two girls talked during the entire meal. Lisa told her about her father, while Masha spoke of her mother. They stuffed down beef and porridge. Lisa stated that she wasn't so sure about coming to this school.

"I have an idea," said Lisa, "We need to have a roommate by the end of the day. We should be roommates!"

Masha nodded eagerly. Finally she had a friend besides her cousin Tatianna. Those two weren't close, but they were forced to play together while their parents talked. Masha found her cousin to be snobby and immature. It was all in her mind, really. For her cousin was mostly just a sweet little girl. Just the two of them were not the best at getting along well.

Later that night Lisa wrote a letter to her father. She would write one every night to him. That was her goal. She write about the school. And Masha. Her new friend.

She fell asleep, smiling.

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**I would love to hear which girl you like better. I feel bad for having a favorite, but I just love Lisa. Perhaps, it's because I'm just jelous of her math skills which I will never have. But in real life, I'm probably more like Masha. More creative then booksmart. **

**Thanks for reading! Please review! **


	2. YEAR TWO

**Guest that I can only assume is my good old friend OwlLegendary000: Yes, it is I back from a visit to hell-er I mean, school. Yeah, I had heard about Great Comet before and after you suggested it to me, I went, "Well, why not?" and I fell in love with it. The moment that they mentioned Pierre in Prolouge I was thinking, "I'm gonna love Pierre, aren't I?" and guess what? I LOVE him! My mom found out that Pierre was played by Josh Groban and has started listening to it. Turns out that I've been listening to Josh Groban all my life. Before my life, even. She listen to him while she was pregnant with me. Which is pretty cool. I got the name Masha from the novel "War and Peace" actaully. I found out that it was the name of one of Pierre and Natasha's daughters and also thought of that show. I never watched it, neither did my little brothers, but I see it on Netflix all the freaking time, so it's kind of burned into my memory now. Lisa also comes from the novel. Loved your point about Sonya. I relate to her so much, it's sad. You're always there for your best friend, who only ends up hating you in the end. **

**(I'm sorry, this paragraph got too long, I'm starting another). I think that's a really interesting idea! I have seen Beauty and the Beast AUs on Wattpad before (that sight scares me), but never have seen one with King George as the Beast. That makes perfect sense, too! I say go for it. I've seen several stories (again on Wattpad) with Pippa and Johnathon shipped together, so I don't think it's strange. It's nice to do things a little differently. Besides, maybe it doesn't have to be a ship. It could just be a friendship that comes out of the story. I was going to write a story about Eliza and Lafayette falling in love (I love Hamliza more then anything, but I mean, this is adorable). It never turned out, but it was interesting. Anyways, thank you, always for the review and for reading my mess of an reply. :)**

**I don't own Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. **

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YEAR TWO

"For your knitting projects, I want you to make a scarf. Now the scarf can be a gift for a parent, sibling, friend, anyone really that you want to give it to. You must embroider the person of your chosing's name on the scarf," said their teacher.

Masha and Lisa made eye contact. They already knew who they were planning on giving their scarfs to. Masha could already see the soft white scarf that she was going to give to her mother. In Natasha's favorite color. The fabric would go so nice around her graceful neck. Just as if a swan was wearing it. Meanwhile, Lisa only knew that the scarf she was making would have to go to her father. There was no one else that she wanted to give it to. She just had no idea as to what it would look like. Lisa was much better at words and numbers. Ask her what the last play Shakespeare wrote and she knew it. _The Two Nobel Kinsmen_. Masha was the more creative out of the two. As the girls picked out their yarn, Lisa tapped her friend and the back and said,

"Can you help me? I don't know what my papa would like."

"Of course!" Masha put her finger on her chin, in the way she say Marya do so many times before. "Let's see. . . What's his favorite color? We can start there."

"Probably yellow. He wears his yellow vest a lot."

"Perfect!" Masha dug around in the yarn basket. When she pulled her hand out, she was holding a ball of mustered yellow. "Will this work?"

"It's lovely! Papa is going to love it!" Lisa held the yarn to her chest.

A larger girl pushed the two girls out of her way. As she fell, the yarn slipped out of Lisa's hands. It tangled as it met the ground. Masha gasped, trying to keep any dirt off of the wool she had been carrying.

"Come on!" exclaimed the girl that had pushed them, "There _are _other people that need to get their yarn, as well."

"You could have just asked us to get out of your way, Sasha," whispered Masha, "No need to be so rude about it."

"Shut it. You know that I have been here since I was six. That means that I must be smarter then you. Because of that, clearly I am higher then you. Both of your parent's couldn't afford to send you here before now," Sasha snapped.

"Actually, Sasha," said Lisa, getting off of the floor, "Our parents loved us more then yours. They wanted to keep us with them for much longer. It seems that _your _parents wanted to get rid of you as soon as possible." She flashed her a sarcastic smile and helped her friend off of the ground.

The two girls returned to their seats. Masha was able to get started faster than Lisa. She tried to think of something other then Sasha and her mean comments. She didn't want them to affect them as much as they did. Masha yearned to be able to rub them off, just like Lisa. Or her mother. She could tell that some people had said awful things to her. Especially her father. Masha didn't remember her grandfather much. Only one time when she was about three years old and stumbled upon them arguing. Natasha was trying to convince Grandfather that someone named "Anatole" wasn't all bad. Grandfather seemed to disagree. Only calming down at the mention of herself. His granddaughter. At that Grandfather promised not to hurt Anatole.

Lisa was thinking about her father. She remembered a time where he told her about a man named Napoleon. Pierre hated this man with everything inside of him. She felt his excitement when he spoke of his death. According to her father, this Napoleon had invaded Russia the year before she was born and her father despised him for it. Lisa was amazing that Pierre wasn't the cause of his death.

When the Christmas season rolled by, the girls wrapped up their gifts. The school was holding a celebration for the families to come to before taking their daughters home for the holidays. Masha was shaking she was so excited for her mother to return to her. Being home was also going to be a relief.

The girls were lined up in front of the school to great their parents. They were supposed to sing a song before breaking off into their families. Instead the younger girls ran into their mother's arms before singing anything. The rest of the girls followed their example. Every teacher tried to separate them, but the task proved to be too difficult. Masha, lost in the madness, circled around, calling for her mother. Finally, she noticed her, doing the same.

"Mama!" she cried, running into Natasha's embrace.

"Oh! Masha!" replied Natasha, "I missed you, baby."

"There's someone I want you to meet, Mama," said her daughter, tugging on her hand, "Her name is Lisa. You know, the girl that I told you about in my letters. She's my best friend."

Lisa had already found her own father. She was speaking to him in such a fast voice, Pierre seemed confused. She saw her friend and waved her over. The two girls put their arms around each other's shoulders.

"Papa, this is Masha. I told you about her," Lisa began, "Masha, this is my father. Count Pierre Bezukhov."

But their parents weren't paying attention to her. They stared at each other. Mouths wide open. Neither of them moved. Trapped in the past.

"Natasha. . ." whispered Pierre, "I can't believe my eyes. . ."

"Pierre, I haven't seen you since, well, you know. I would have never imagined meeting you here," Natasha replied.

"It's been ages."

"Indeed."

The two of them stood there awkwardly. Neither one knew what to say. Bringing up the last time they had met would only bring up painful memories. Masha and Lisa gave each other a look. Lisa tugged on her father's coat.

"Papa, how do you know Masha's mother?" she asked, with wide eyes.

"Our families. . . Our families were good friends." Pierre caught a glimpse of Natasha's hand as she fixed her daughter's hair. A wedding ring. Suddenly, he felt very aware of the ring on his own finger.

"Yes, that's right, girls. Let's go inside to eat, shall we?" Natasha took Masha's hand. In turn, she took Lisa's hand who took Pierre's hand. The four of them walked out of the cold together.

Neither adult could pay much attention to what their daughter was telling them. They could only think of the events that brought them here. Pierre didn't know that Natasha was married. To whom? Not a man from Moscow. He knew all of them and their wives. Natasha knew that his ring was from his marriage with Hélène. Lisa didn't resemble her father at all. There was only Hélène in her.

The two friends embraced as they said goodbye. Masha had tears in her eyes. She would miss Lisa. Both of them would miss each other. Then off they went to their separate carriages. Masha to the countryside. Lisa back to her home in Moscow.

"Proshchay!" called Lisa over her shoulder.

"S rozhdyestvom Hristovym!"

* * *

After Christmas, they said farewell to their parents and headed back to school. The girls talked all night about their adventures. In the morning, they were exhausted from their lack of sleep, but still had more things to tell the other.

There were classes to return to. Other girls to great. Of course, more stories to tell. Over the break, Pierre had told Lisa several stories. Fairy tales and Myths. Mostly because he wanted to change the subject when she asked him about Natasha. Lisa went on to tell her friend all about them.

Two months went by. Typhus was going around at the school. The teachers warned their classes about sharing brushes with the other girls. Every girl's hair was inspected for lice. Masha hated having the examination. Both girls were cleared, though. Much to both of their relief.

During class over the next three weeks, Masha had been getting terrible headaches. She had to ask her teacher to let her go back to her room. Her head was getting worse each day. Lisa tried to get her to see a doctor, but Masha was stubborn.

"They said that I was alright, Lisa," was what she told her friend.

Before bed one night, the two girls were reading. Suddenly, Masha set her book down. She blinked a few times before asking,

"What are we doing?"

"Reading, Masha. We like to read before bed," explained Lisa, "Are you alright? You don't seem so."

As she pulled her hair back, Masha's sleeve fell down. Exposing a rash made up of several red dots. Lisa gasped. This was what all the other girls with Typhus had before going home to be treated. Shaking, Lisa pointed to the marks on her skin.

"M-Masha, that's a Typhus rash," she said, "That explains the confusion and headaches, too. Oh Masha! You can't die like the other girl did!"

"It's just a rash, Lisa. Don't be so dramatic."

"No, that's definitely a Typhus rash. We need to get you to the nurse."

After much convincing, Lisa was able to get Masha out of bed and into the hallways. No one else was around. The feeling was unwelcoming. It seemed as if it were foreshadowing something terrible about to happen. A teacher passed them, on her way to check on the students. Her eyebrows narrowed at the sight of the two girls out of bed.

"And what do you two think you're doing?" she questioned, in a stern tone.

"I found a rash on her arm." was all Lisa needed to say.

The teacher grabbed Masha's arm and examined it. Without saying a word, she began taking her away. Lisa whispered a goodbye to her friend. Only hoping that she would be able to see her again.

Parents began to arrive at the school to take the girls home. It didn't matter if you were sick or not. The school was going on lockdown for some time until the epidemic passed. Natasha was one of the first. She had been staying with Marya before learning the news about her daughter. Lisa wasn't even able to say "get better" to her friend. Pierre arrived a day later. When he found Lisa in distress, he asked her why.

"Masha was one of the girls who got sick," she told him, "I'm just worried about her."

His face darkened at the news. The poor girl. His heart went out to the both of them. Natasha's daughter was ill, meaning that she couldn't be doing much better emotionally. And what about her mystery husband? He would be devastated as well.

Later that night, while Lisa was sleeping, Pierre sat in his study. It was midnight, but he did not care. A book about Typhus was opened in front of him. He had studied the sickness before. Learned everything that he needed to about healing it. Someone pounded on the door. Pierre stood up to find one of Marya's maids panting in front of him. She rejected his invitation to come inside.

"Mistress Natasha needs you and all you knowledge about Typhus," she said, "She says that this may be the end of little Masha's life if he don't come quick!"

One of his servants pocked his head out from the corner. "Shall I call for a coach, sir?"

"No. No. There's no time for that. I can get there on foot."

Pierre wrapped his fur clock around him before having the maid lead him to Marya's. Along the way, she explained that their doctor was on holiday. All the others were already treating the other Typhus victims. Natasha knew that he had studied a few diseases before and thought that perhaps he would be able to help Masha. Pierre was their last hope.

Once he arrived, Pierre was led into a guest room. Masha laid on the bed, shaking and whimpering. He ordered for a few supplies before getting to work. It took the entire night to get Masha's fever to break. When it did, he gave a sigh of relief. She had been at death's door, but was able to make it home before death could overtake her. He called Natasha in.

The look of relief on Natasha's face when she saw her daughter made Pierre's heart throb. The mother held her daughter to her chest. Checking her over just in case. When she looked over at Pierre, she thought she felt something. An emotion that hadn't sparked inside of her since Anatole. Once Natasha was certain that Masha was alright she joined her friend.

"Thank you so much for everything," she whispered, "I owe you so much. You saved her life. What can I do for you? Is there anything that your heart desires?"

"I'm fine, really. Just doing what anyone would do," he replied, nodding.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

Pierre thought of Natasha the entire way home. In a way, the look that she gave him after healing her daughter made him feel as if his eyes had been opened for the first time. He smiled as he made his way home. Lisa was there to great him once he arrived.

"Where were you?" she questioned the moment he entered the house.

"Just making sure that your friend is going to be alright."

Her eyes begged for him to tell her that Masha was fine. "She is going to be okay, right?"

"Now I know that she will be."

* * *

**Ooooooohhhhh! There's some chemistry going on here! (It's two am, give me a freaking break) **

**Thanks for reading! Please review! **


	3. YEAR THREE

**OwlLegendary000: Hey, it's fine! I talk to other people on this site all the time about things going on in their life. And I am so, so sorry. I know you miss them with eveything inside of you. You two are in my prayers. And, ahh, "we need to talk to you." Everytime I hear that, I just think of all the bad things that I've ever done. It's okay that we don't want to get into the details of it. I probably wouldn't either. And that little boy. . . Oh, gosh, Christmas is suppose to be such a happy time, but a lot of families have lost people during it. And it's bittersweet for them. I don't blame those families at all, I just wish that the holidau season didn't also have to be so tragic sometimes. You, your pet, and tht little boy are in my prayers. **

**I was a bit hesitant to post this chapter. Some trigger warnings: periods, blood, an almost kiss. . .**

**I don't own Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812.**

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YEAR THREE

_Age: Eleven _

No matter how much she tried, Lisa could not figure out why all the other girls seemed to be overly excited about the boy's school coming to stay with them for a few months. She had met other boys before. One of her friends was a boy. There was nothing to get so excited about.

Masha, however, thought very differently then her friend. She daydreamed about falling in love with one of the boys from that school. One day they would bump into each other in the halls. He would help her to her feet. Just like a true gentleman would. Masha would apologize, stating that she was such a klutz, but the boy that she just met was going to tell he that it was his fault. From there he would introduce himself. Before Masha had to leave, he would ask her for a dance at the ball. She would wear her very best dress. Perhaps her dream suitor was lean in during their dance and. . .

"Wake up, Masha," whispered Lisa, making her return to the classroom they were in.

"Miss Maria, because you seem to think that daydreaming is much better then paying any attention to me, you can stay inside when the boy school arrives and daydream inside this classroom," scolded their teacher, frowning.

"But, Madam-"

"I don't want to hear it. When the boys latter today arrive you will wait inside this classroom with me. Now, let's continue. Miss Sasha, do you know what this means?"

Masha had drowned out her teacher's voice. She wasn't going to ever met her Prince Charming. Just because she had been daydreaming about him. Lisa slid her a note: _I'm sorry about your detention. I promise that I'll meet you outside the door once you get out. _Masha nodded at her. Too disappointed to write a note back.

Lisa wasn't much happier then her friend. She had to great the boys alone. The girls sang a hymn to welcome them. After a brief speech from the headmistress, they were dismissed. Lisa nearly ran to the room her friend was being help captive in.

She wasn't paying attention to where she was going. Her eyes followed her feet. Usually, Lisa would hold her head high. Without her best friend at her side, just walking down the hall wasn't the same. She closed her eyes for half a second when she felt another body crashing against hers. Lisa let out a cry as her hands made contact with the ground. She looked up to see just who she had knocked into.

It was a boy. He straightened his vest, crocked after taking that fall. Lisa's mind was screaming at her. _A boy! Really, Lisa? You could have knocked into any one, but you just had to knock into him! _She stared up at him. Something about his appearance made her heart begin to thump. _Oh, gosh. He's handsome, too. _What was she doing? This was the opposite of herself. Masha was usually the one daydreaming about her prince. Not Lisa. The boy stood up and offered his hand to her. Once Lisa had risen, the two only stood there. Awkwardly.

"Um, I'm Duke Alexsei Ivanovich Fedoror," he introduced, "Who might you be?"

All of her life she had just been called Lisa. Even when she was in trouble, her father continued to scold her by that name. Lisa had seen her friends get in trouble before. They were called by their _full _names. Lisa never felt the need to have to ask her father that question. Since he had introduced himself by his full name, she felt inclined to do the same. Just she would have to make up her own. At least what she believed to be her own.

"Countess Elizaveta Pierrenva Bezukova. Please, just call me Lisa."

The young duke smiled. "Well, then, Lisa. Call me Alex."

Alex kissed her hand, making Lisa blush. He looked her in such a sweet way when they made eye contact. She had to look away. This was the beginning of a friendship, possibly. Nothing more. Lisa had male friends back home. She had never felt like this before, however.

"Hey! Alex!" yelled another boy that she could only assume that was one of Alex's friends, "Where you been? I thought we were going to. . ." He noticed Lisa. "Oh? I see that you've been practicing your 'charming' skills?"

"_Shut up_," Alex hissed.

His friend laughed. "Come on! The others are waiting!"

"Wait." Alex faced Lisa. "I hope that we'll see each other again."

"Yes. That would be fun." She would have to introduce Alex to Masha. Masha. . . How long had her friend been waiting? "Please, excuse me. I need to find my friend. And it seems you need to take your leave as well."

"Goodbye, Lisa."

"Bye, Alex."

As Lisa turned around, she could hear Alex's friend say, "Oh, already on a first name basis?" She flushed. When there weren't any teachers around, she began to run. Masha was waiting outside the classroom. When Masha saw her, her eyes lit up.

"I was about to leave, thinking that you had forgotten about me," Masha began.

It was hard for Lisa to listen to her friend. Her mind kept wondering back to Alex. How had she looked when she introduced herself? Last time she looked in a mirror which was right before the ceremony, her hair had been a bit messy. Lisa had dismissed it. Now she wished with all her heart that she had took the time to smooth her hair down at least a little bit. Masha noticed.

"Lisa? Lisa? Wake up, sleepin' beauty." She snapped her finger. "You look like. . . You look just like my mother after she saw your father again." Masha narrowed her eyes. "You meet a boy, didn't you?"

"No!" Lisa was quick to dismiss.

Masha only smiled. "Oh, yes you did. Don't hid it from me. What's his name?"

"Alex. . ."

"Already on a first name basis?"

Lisa blushed again. "Shut it, Masha." Before her friend opened her mouth again, she was quick to ask, "Our parents looked at each other in such a way. . . Do you think that they're in love?"

She regretted her words. Of course, their parents couldn't be in love. Masha's mother was wearing a ring. Yet again, Masha had never mentioned her father. Still, he must not be a big part of her life. He wasn't even there during Christmas.

Masha was thinking the same thing. Lisa must have a mother. No girl didn't. Pierre also wore a ring. So she shook her head.

"But that doesn't mean that you aren't in love!"

* * *

A ball. A grand, beautiful ball was going to take place the following week. Once the headmistress announced it, Lisa thought immediately of Alex. The two had seen each other a few times since their run in. First at the library, where he invited her to meet his friends. Masha had been with her at that time, so those two met then. The entire time Masha was suggesting things to Lisa about Alex. Just to embarrass her. Still, Lisa could not hate her friend.

Alex was probably not going to invite to it. He was a year older then her. Twelve. That seemed such a mature age in her mind. Only people twelve and up could attend, but if they asked someone younger then them, both could go. Their teachers called it a practice courting session. Lisa's heart was begging for it. Her mind told her it was a terrible idea.

They were going to meet in the library. Lisa found her second best dress. Saving her very nicest for an even better occasion. Masha was coming along, as well. She had begged her way into this. The two girls made their way down to the library.

A group of twelve-year-old boys were gathered around a table. They didn't seem to pay attention to the only rule of the library: be quiet. Masha looked ready to scold them. Lisa liked their rebellious attitude. Alex waved them over.

"Gentleman, I would like you to meet Countess Elizaveta Pierrenva Bezukhova and her very dear friend, Countess Maria Anatolenva Rostova," said Alex to his friends, "Ladies, my closest friends, Vladik, Gregory, Tomas, Maxim, and Feodor."

"Oh, are you not going to introduce us with our full names, Alex?" teased Vladik, "Please, allow me: Vladik Lukovna Volsky."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I was simply being polite. Not to overwhelm them with fifteen different names."

Vladik smirked. He took Masha's hand and laid a kiss on it. When Lisa looked over at her friend, she was blushing like never before. Her first physical touch with a boy. And she had been lucky enough to get a kiss.

"Miss Rostova, correct?" he asked.

Masha nodded. "You may call me Masha." She looked around at the group. "All of you, please. Just call me Masha."

"I just go by Lisa," her friend interjected.

The rest of the boys greeted them. After a brief conversation, Alex asked Lisa to talk to hm alone. Her heart began to pound. Masha looked a bit nervous to be left alone with a group of members of the opposite sex, but she would manage. Lisa yearned to know what Alex needed to talk to her about.

"You know the ball that's coming up?" Alex started, "Have you. . . Have you been asked, yet?"

"No. I'm not allowed to go with someone my age, remember. I'm eleven, still. . ." Lisa sounded so childish. She wasn't allowed to go to a party just because she wasn't old enough. If only her mother had given birth two weeks early. Lisa had been two weeks late.

"Well, I was wondering. . . Been wondering for a while, now actually. I had this idea and I kind of just went along with it, not even have spoken to you first. . ." He paused. "I'm rambling, aren't I?" Alex took a deep breath. "Lisa, will you to go the ball with me?"

Her heart just melted. Or it was about to jump out of her chest and scream. Lisa had just been asked to a dance with Alex. The boy, no, the _man _of her dreams. She nodded. Then nodded faster.

"Really?" Alex looked at her with such hope.

"Of course!"

Once they got back to the rest of the group, Masha was beaming. She explained that Vladik had just asked her to the ball. The two girls squealed. Their entire walk back, the two discussed their upcoming night. Lisa decided that she could never tell her father about this. Pierre had already freaked out once she had made a male friend. Masha, on the other hand, had already mentally writing her letter to her mother.

Masha got a letter within three days. Natasha was staying with Marya again. Even though, Natasha wrote that she was excited for her daughter, Masha still got the impression that her mother was scared for her. She wondered why. The question ate at her during lessons. During their meals. Before falling asleep. Masha dismissed it, soon enough. It was probably just because she was practicing courting and that her baby was grown up now. Yes, that was it.

The night before the ball, the headmistress allowed the girls to stay with their families the night before. Masha invited her friend over for a sleepover. Lisa was beyond excited for the weekend. The girls had a sleepover every night, but this was different. They would stay up all night whispering secrets in each other's ears and scaring the other with ghost stories.

Natasha arrived in her carriage. The girls were waiting outside with their overnight bags. They ran into the coach.

After dinner, the girls got right down to it. They discussed the boys that they were going with. Masha admitted that she walked in her sleep. Lisa told her about the time that she woke up, yelling. Masha named her future children: Natalya, Sophia, and Vladimir. Lisa daydreamed about her wedding to Alex. They dared each other to eat strange foods such as meat jelly with red caviar sandwiches. Masha nearly threw up after that one. Lisa was dared to jump on Marya's bed. Once she had, both girls got quite the scolding. They decided that it would be a good time to get some sleep.

Lisa woke up before her friend. Her stomach felt as if someone had punched it hundreds of times. She couldn't think of the dance through the pain. What if she was dying? Lisa stood up from the bed she had rested in. Something felt off. When she bent down to make it, Lisa noticed a trail of blood. There was no doubt about that. Now she was certain she was going to die. She hadn't even been able to go to the ball. Hands shaking, she covered the blood up. Her father had told her about diseases that started out like this. Lisa wondered the halls before finding Natasha. The older woman seemed confused to see her without Masha.

"Everything alright, Lisa?" she asked, gently.

"Um, Madam Rostova. . ." Her lip quivered. "I, uh, I think I'm dying. . ."

Natasha smiled to herself. This child was so gentle and innocent about her words. "How so?"

Lisa took her hand and led her into the bedroom. Quietly, to not wake Masha. Even though, she was a heavy sleeper, Lisa didn't want to take any chances. She reveled the stain on her bed. Natasha knew what it was right away. It had been a little over fifteen when she had her first. Laughing gently, Natasha took Lisa's hand.

"Lisa, you're going to be fine, trust me," Natasha explained, "You just got your first period."

"My first-what?! Periods are what's at the end of a sentence. . ."

"Did your father never explain it to you? That sounds like Pierre. Let me begin. . ."

As Natasha spoke, Lisa noticed the blood on her nightgown. Her stomach was aching for her to give it something. Apparently it didn't like this feeling either. Natasha explained everything to her. Lisa paled more and more. Soon it became her back that was also bothering her.

"Wait! This is going to happen _every month_?!" Lisa figured that they might as well kill her. "I'm going to die! This is how I die!"

"I thought the same thing, but every woman has to go through it," she replied, "If you ever need anything, just write to me. I'll get it for you. Let's start with some tea to help your belly."

"Thank you, Madam Rostova."

According to her, Lisa's period wasn't going to impact her going to the dance. She was given tea to sip at and Natasha gave the suitable things to hide the blood. Masha didn't wake until after her sheets had been changed. Lisa told her that she had begun her menstruation, Masha replied that she already knew all about it since she was ten. She was still free.

Natasha whispered a few more tips into Lisa's ear on the drive back to the school. There, they slipped into their dresses and arrived at the ball. The two girls spent most of the time together. With their suitors and their other friends. Lisa forgot all about her cramps and laughed along with the others. Alex asked her to step onto the balcony with him.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Lisa," he told her.

"Me, too."

Alex's gaze fell to her lips. Lisa began to lean in, just as he was doing. Their lips were just about to touch when Masha came into the scene.

"Lisa! Alex! They're about to do the Minuet!"

The couple was swept onto the dancefloor. Lisa laughed her anger off and took Alex's hand. They waltzed the night away.

Lisa decided it was the most romantic night of her life.

* * *

**Aww! My little Lisa's growing up and falling in love! **

**Thanks for reading! Please review! **


	4. YEAR FOUR

**Sorry about the wait! I don't really have any excuses besides the I was busy and I had computer problems, but I'm back! **

**I don't own Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. **

* * *

YEAR FOUR

Age: 12

There seemed to be no way to escape the anxiety surrounding her. Either a test or another project was always on Masha's mind. At night, she was losing sleep since she could only stress about her schoolwork at night. Lisa never seemed to be having these problems. School was easy for her. She was even becoming better at sewing. The one thing that Masha succeeded her at. She tried with all her heart not to be jealous. Just that proved to be very hard.

"I am assigning you a project. . ."

"There's going to be a test on this tomorrow."

"You must memorize this."

Every teacher seemed to want to get on her back more and more. There was no getting away from this. Lisa was so focused on spending time with Alex while he was visiting. Masha and Vladik were only friends. Not as close as Alex and Lisa were. Something else that Masha had to sallow her jealousy for of her friend. She tried to understand. She really did. Nothing made sense to her. It was obvious that Lisa had feelings for Alex. And Masha had been the one waiting to fall in love. Now Lisa was getting her happily ever after.

"Masha," said Lisa, while they were in the library, "What's wrong? You seem so stressed all the time."

At her friend's words, Masha broke down. Trying to tell her what was going on in between sobs. A librarian shot them a stern look. Lisa set down her books and helped Masha out. They found a empty bench along the hall.

"Now tell me again, slower," said Lisa, gently.

Masha took a deep breath. "I've just been so stressed lately. With schoolwork and such. I need to catch up, but I'm not very good at this kind of thing. Or school. At all. Mama's going to kill me for getting kicked out-No Mama isn't going to kill me. Madam Marya is!"

"You need help with school work?"

"Your-your so good at it! But I don't wanna bug you!" She sniffled.

Lisa gave her friend a comforting smile. "Hey, it's okay. You want to know who taught me what I know today? My papa did. I can arrange for you to meet with him."

Masha sniffled again. Lisa passed her a handkerchief which her friend gladly took. "You-you would do that for me? Your-your papa wouldn't mind?"

"I doubt it. He loves children."

Masha looked at her friend, with newfound hope. "Okay, that sounds good."

* * *

Pierre was shocked to see little Masha Rostova on his doorstep. She was shaking, not from the cold, however. Lisa was right next to her, holding a bag overflowing with papers. He shook off his surprise, however, and let them inside. Usually he would have a maidservant answer the door, but he had been expecting Lisa to come home soon.

"Welcome, Lisa. Madam Rostova," he greeted, as the girls stepped inside.

"Thank you, Count Bezukhov," Masha replied, sweetly, "But please, just call Masha."

Lisa took her friend's hand and lead her inside. Masha's eyes widened as she went on a tour of their house. It occurred to Pierre that she had never see their home. Only her own and Marya's. Once the girls were done, they met him in his office.

"Papa, Masha was wondering if you could help her out with a few of her assignments," said Lisa, "Please, Papa?"

Pierre looked Masha over. The girl looked as if she hadn't slept in days. Lines beneath her eyes and the way that she was shaking told him everything. She had been yawning the entire time they were here. Pierre nodded and told them to pull up a chair. Lisa stayed by her friend's side, just in case. She had the occasional comment, but mostly was quiet. By the end of their session, Masha seemed to have a better understanding of everything. She thanked Pierre, in her quiet tone, and gathered up her things. Lisa stayed behind.

"Thank you so much for helping her, Papa," she told him.

His heart swelled. His little girl had a friend. And she was a true friend. Lisa kissed his cheek before heading out of the room.

The next day, Natasha visited. Out of the blue. Pierre didn't contact her often, but he ordered a servant to get tea and asked her to sit down.

"I've been studying that philosophy book that you told me about," Natasha began, "It's a bit confusing, but perhaps you could help me through it. Like the way that you help my daughter with her schoolwork."

Pierre blushed at mention of that. "Uh, of course. I would, um, love to."

Natasha smiled softly to herself. "It means a lot to me, Pierre. Thank you."

They sat in a silence. Natasha did not find herself feeling awkward or uncomfortable. Pierre was different. He was whispering to himself without noticing. Once the tea arrived, Natasha served herself a cup. He watched her graceful hands pour the liquid. He had never noticed the faint scar on her thumb. Or how her eyes always seemed to be beaming at him. They continued to make small talk before Natasha decided she had to go. Pierre walked his guest to the door, helping her with her coat. Once Natasha turned around, their faces were much closer. Pierre flushed harder then he had before. She grinned at him before kissing his cheek. Natasha left then.

Pierre could only gape and hold his cheek. As if he had never been kissed before. There had been girls in his courtship days. And, of course, Hélène. But he was an old man now. What could Natasha ever see in him?

* * *

**There you go. Dear bewhildered, awkward Pierre. At least their romance is starting to happen. I had way too much fun with it. **

**Thanks for reading! **


	5. YEAR FIVE

**Finally back, you lovely people! I still don't own Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet, though. **

* * *

YEAR FIVE

Seeing Masha with her mother was painful to Lisa. It should've been. She had her father and she loved him very much. But ever since she was very young, she had wondered about her mother. Lisa had to have had one at one point. Yet, her father never talked about her.

It was the opposite for Masha. She had begun to love Pierre like a father. Sometimes, she wondered if he was her father. He treated her like a daughter. Masha knew that he wasn't. It was all a fantasy that she wouldn't live. Thinking of Pierre like a father seemed like she was betraying her own. Whoever he was.

The girls tried not to have any secrets between them. They talked about their parents all the time. Not the parents that they were missing. That was the only secret that they kept. It was too personal to share. But it was healthy to not tell everyone everything. Right?

Summer was approaching fast. Before long, their exams were over. Their rooms all packed up. And carriages arriving to take them home. Masha, like always, was going to St. Petersburg for holiday. The girls would have to make do with writing letters.

A familiar sleigh was approaching them. Lisa picked up her bag. She turned to her best friend. They shared a quick embrace.

"I'm going to miss you, Masha," Lisa whispered.

"Yeah, me too."

Lisa entered the sleigh. Pierre was beaming. The father and daughter shared a quick hug before she took a seat. Before leaving, she vowed that during the next two months, she would ask him about her mother. Now was not that time. They had so much catching up to do. Lisa could do that later.

Perhaps, her friend was wearing off on Masha. The day after they arrived in St. Petersburg, she approached her mother right away. Natasha was writing a letter to someone (the name on the paper was _Pierre_, but there were several people named that, so Masha couldn't be so sure) when she opened the door.

"Good morning, Masha," her mother greeted with a smile.

"Mama," might as well go straight for it, "I was wondering about my father."

Natasha paled, setting her quill down. "Why do you ask?"

"I just want to know who he is." Masha shrugged, sitting on the floor.

Her mother thought for a moment. Then, she took a deep breath and pulled up a chair which she sat in. Natasha took her child's hands. It had been so many years since she had held those hands for the first time. Even now, her heart blossomed with love for her.

"You are thirteen now," Natasha began, "It's about time that you knew." She sighed. "I met your father for the first time at an opera. I was engaged to be married to someone else then. A prince. But your father-Anatole stole my heart. . ."

With that, she told Masha everything. About how she had to stop her father from dueling Anatole. And how heartbroken she had been when she found out that he was already married. At the moment that they were supposed to be married. Masha listened, on edge the entire story. Once Natasha got to the end, she asked,

"And you haven't seen him since?"

She shook her head. "No, darling. But if he ever came back to meet you, I just know that he would love you. Masha, I don't want him in our lives. If you ever think that he's here, please tell me. I can't have him ruin our lives again."

Trusting her mother, Masha nodded her head. "I promise, Mama."

* * *

Lisa, however, wasn't have much success. She wanted to know more about her mother. Sometimes, she had dreams about her. But every time that she vowed to herself that she would talk to her father, Lisa found an excuse not to. He seemed busy or she just wanted to have a peaceful meal.

She had another one of those dreams again. This time, it was of a woman. Dead. On the floor. Her body spread out. Lisa had gone down the kitchen in the dream, thirsty. Instead, she found this woman. She had dark skin like herself. Her curls were spread over the floor. Lisa knew that this was her mother. A bottle was besides the woman. Her mother.

Having those dreams, put her in a quiet mood. At dinner, usually, she would be bursting with excitement and stories. Instead Lisa was pushing her food around on her plate. She wasn't hungry. Not anymore.

Pierre noticed, of course. So he did as any good parent would do. He asked her what was wrong. Lisa sighed. But opened her mouth to speak.

"I've been wondering about Mama," she told him.

Ice seared through Pierre's chest. She was thirteen. Of course, she was going to wonder about her mother. He could keep the truth from her forever. Though, Lisa was going to be killed when she found out that she was the illegitimate child of Dolokhov and Hélène.

"Your mother. . . Your mother, my wife." His face was already turning red. "Hélène, she had an. . . affair with a man named Dolokhov. And from that. . . came you."

Lisa paled. "Are you sure that _you_ aren't my father?"

"Your mother refused to. . ."

"Oh," she interrupted so he wouldn't continue. This was no proper conversation.

So she was the child of a wh*re. Her stomach dropped. Lisa wasn't who she thought that she was. She wasn't Lisa Bezukhov, like she always thought she was. Now she was Lisa Dolokhov. Her birth father didn't even know she existed.

It was numb. Everything was after that. Then, late at night, as Lisa thought about her parents, her mind came across the possibilities that could have happened to her if Pierre hadn't stepped up and took her in. She loved him like a father. That was what he would always be to her. Lisa climbed out of bed to find him in his study. He looked up.

"What are you doing up, Lisa?" he asked, gently.

Lisa didn't respond. She just held him tight. She couldn't explain her gratitude.

"Thank you," she whispered into his shoulder, "You'll always be my true papa."

"And you'll always be my true daughter."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! **


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